Classic Poem

To value tears I now begin,
Since Thou Lord dost provide,
A bottle for to put them in
That none shall fall beside;
One drop will raise a sinner from a swound;
What pity 'tis to spill them on the ground!

I spill them when I spend them on
Vain trifles. Worldly losses,
They are not worthy of a groan,
Much less a tear. Such crosses
I rather should rejoice in, since they prove
The tokens of my heavenly Father's love.

When from the limbeck of mine eyes
My tears for sin distil,
That Aqua vitae Thou dost prize,
And with't Thy bottle fill.
O let my tears for my sins only fall,
That so Thy bottle may preserve them all.

Then of them, Lord, a cordial make,
Against sin's poisonous sting,
Which when my heart with grief doth ake
May comfort to it bring.
Last a collyrium make of them, which may
Take all the sorenees of mine eyes away.